


i've had no love like your love

by HeartonFire



Category: Daredevil (TV), The Punisher (TV 2017)
Genre: Angst, Drabble Collection, F/M, Fluff, Originally Posted on Tumblr, Smut, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-03-31
Updated: 2019-07-08
Packaged: 2019-12-27 04:02:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 20
Words: 18,546
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18296444
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/HeartonFire/pseuds/HeartonFire
Summary: A collection of fluffy, smutty, angsty Kastle drabbles originally prompted and/or posted ontumblr. Ratings for each chapter in the notes. <3





	1. i should have worshipped her sooner

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [frank-kastle](https://frank-kastle.tumblr.com):  
> hi hi!!! how about Frank coming home to the sight of Karen wearing one of his t-shirts (for the first time) and his heart getting all fluttery and soft from how much he loves it. (also I love your writing so much you're so good at writing fluff and that's my fave genre of fic :'') )
> 
> **Rated G**

It wasn’t that Frank didn’t want a war anymore. He just wanted something else too.

And that something else happened to have long blonde hair and blue eyes that made his heart ache when he thought about them.

He hadn’t been sure she’d even let him in. He hadn’t been sure she wouldn’t use that .380 of hers to send him away for good. He hadn’t been sure.

He went anyway.

And she was so good and so kind and so stubborn. He knew all that. He knew more now.

It was tricky, at first. They had kept it down for so long, avoided it, pretended it didn’t exist.

But now, after the hospital, after everything that happened, he couldn’t pretend anymore. He was still going to go out and punish those scumbags that hurt kids and women and innocent people. He couldn’t stop. He wouldn’t.

She knew that. She always understood. Karen had always known what he was and she loved him anyway. He was trying not to be so scared of what that meant.

She terrified him.

She terrified him in the way she looked at him. In the way she touched him. In the way she spoke to him. In the way she let him in.

But nothing about her had ever terrified him more than this.

There she was, legs crossed under her while she pored over some file or other on the couch. Her pen was in her mouth, clamped between her teeth while she searched for something.

She was wearing his shirt.

Gray, worn, soft from too many washes, it gaped around her neck, sagged around her hips. It was far too big for her. She didn’t seem to notice. She didn’t seem to mind.

She looked up when she heard him come in, smile breaking across her face like a sunrise. She dropped the pen and put the file to the side, stretching out the stiffness in her back with her arms reaching for the ceiling. The shirt lifted and pooled as she moved and Frank couldn’t take his eyes off her.

She looked down and a soft blush rose in her cheeks. “Sorry, I didn’t have any clean shirts.”

Frank sank to his knees in front of her, head falling to her lap, hands smoothing the sides of the shirt against her ribcage. He couldn’t speak. She was wearing his shirt.

“Frank?” she murmured, fingertips tracing over the back of his head. He closed his eyes. Breathed her in. She smelled like Karen. She smelled like him.

He lifted his head and pulled her face down to his for a soft kiss. “Looks better on you.”


	2. all that goodness is gone with you now

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [artemisgarden](https://artemisgarden.tumblr.com):  
> Prompt if you want it. After season 2 of the punisher, someone finally fills Frank in on what happend to Karen while he was gone. (Basically Frank finds out about Daredevil season 3 and Fisk)
> 
> **Rated G**

“Surprised you called me,” David said, leaning back against the car. Water dripped from the overpass into the puddle at his feet. Frank watched the ripples spread until they disappeared.

“What?”

“Thought Karen Page would be your go-to these days.”

Frank’s spine stiffened. “And why’s that?” He hadn’t seen her since that day in the hospital, wasn’t sure she’d ever want to see him again.

He shrugged. “Just figured she’d be easier to contact than me, these days. Speaking of which, Sarah and the kids want to know when Uncle Pete will be around for dinner. We haven’t seen you in months.”

“I’ve been busy.”

David snorted, shoving his hands into his pockets. He had still never cut his hair, but at least his beard looked trimmed. He had gained some weight. His shirt had a mustard stain, but the rest of his clothes looked clean. He shouldn’t even be here. Sarah would have Frank’s skin if she knew.

“Surprised you’re going after these guys.”

“Why?” Scumbags trafficking drugs and underage girls weren’t exactly out of his wheelhouse.

“Thought you’d be after Fisk, after what he did.”

The name was like a bolt of lightning. Frank’s lip curled into a snarl. “What did that asshole do now?”

David blinked at him. “You’re kidding.”

Taking a very deep breath, Frank tried to remember why he had reached out to David in the first place. Sure, he was a good spook. Sure, they had even become friends, after what happened. But shit, was he annoying sometimes.

“Spit it out, Lieberman.”

His eyes went wide and he pulled out his laptop again, clacking away on the keys. He turned it towards Frank, who saw a fancy apartment and a familiar man in a white suit. Just the sight of that bald head made him want to punch something. Preferably Fisk’s face.

He opened his mouth to speak, but David shushed him. “Just watch.”

The doors opened and there she was. Karen. Her eyes were hard. Unforgiving.

“What is she doing?” he mumbled. David shushed him again. His hands balled into fists at his sides. Whatever this was, he didn’t like it.

The longer it played, the louder the roaring in his ears became. He couldn’t even hear what they were saying by the end. He couldn’t process the words. Something about a former employee. Something about seven shots. When Fisk lunged at her, Frank let out a roar, swinging at the screen. David managed to get it away from him, but only just.

“Whoa! Hey!”

“That shitbag went after Karen.”

“She kind of went after him first.” David leaned away as Frank’s furious eyes met his, setting the computer down carefully, out of his reach. “I’m just saying. She knew what she was doing, going there, goading him like that.”

“I’m going to kill him.” It was a promise.

David winced. “That’s not all.”

Frank couldn’t speak. He could hardly see. Rage was seeping into his vision, making it hard to focus on anything but Karen. Karen and Fisk and Frank beating him to death for what he did. What he tried to do.

“Promise you won’t lose your shit if I tell you?” Frank shrugged. That wasn’t a promise he could make. It certainly wasn’t one he could keep. “Fine. He sent some guy in a Daredevil costume after her.”

“What?” The word was choked. He felt like he was drowning. “He tried to kill her?”

“Yeah. He’s back in jail. Seems like it might stick this time.”

His fists were clenched so tight, he felt the stiffness in his knuckles.  “Why didn’t she tell me?” If he hadn’t seen her, that day in the hospital, safe and whole and there, by his bed, he would have been halfway to her apartment by now.

“She might have been a little busy trying to clear your name. Again.”

Frank’s scowl deepened. “Why didn’t she call me?”

“You were gone. You were out. She was probably trying to let you stay that way. I swear, the two of you have a real knack for being martyrs when you want to be.”

Frank chose to ignore the dig. “Where is she?”

“Probably at work.” He scribbled down an address and handed it to Frank.

He stared down at it, smoothed it between his fingers. There was blood under his fingernails. There were bruises on his scarred knuckles. He pushed the paper into his pocket.

“But seriously, Frank. Come over for dinner. Soon. Leo misses you. We all do.”

He nodded. He wasn’t even listening. He kept tracing the edges of the paper in his pocket. He’d go see her. Just quickly. Just to be sure. He might have imagined the whole thing in the hospital. Wouldn’t be the first time.

He almost turned around. Three times, he almost turned back. He shouldn’t bother her. He shouldn’t reappear. Not now. Not after what happened.

He passed a flower shop on the way and bought a bouquet of white roses. It was cheesy. It was old-fashioned. He wrote his number on the card. Didn’t leave his name. He knew she would know.

It was a butcher shop, not a law office, but there she was. Blonde hair in a bun, just like in the video. The video that nearly made his heart stop for good. The video that made him wonder why he kept pushing her away so hard. The woman was a shit magnet, with or without him. At least if he was there, he could protect her.

It wasn’t up to him. Not now.

He pulled his hood up to cover his face and dropped the bouquet with a quick knock at the door. He peeked around the corner and saw her pick up the flowers, brow furrowed. She looked in every direction, blue eyes searching every shadow. She knew what it meant, who had left the flowers. She didn’t see him. He couldn’t stop looking at her.

His phone rang, hours later.

“Frank?”


	3. you know for me, it's always you

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [kjv289](https://kjv289.tumblr.com):  
> Frank &Karen have been together for awhile. They are comfortable, maybe have a kid and dog. There is a strain between them that neither knows when/how it got there or when talking through stuff became hard between them. Karen worries their life bores Frank and Frank is afraid he’s done something wrong or isn’t good enough. When they finally find a way to talk, they realize they just need to make more time for each other and for once their problems are normal. Angst/fluff with Happy ending
> 
>  
> 
> **Rated T**

Something had changed. Something had shifted.

Karen told herself that this was normal. The wild, crazy passion of their first months together had worn off. They were still good. They were still committed. It was just different.

Given the circumstances of how they met, and how they kept bumping up together over all those months and years, it only made sense that when they got together, it would be a whirlwhind, a tempest, a swirl of emotion and lust and devotion.

That couldn’t last. They would have burned out years ago if they tried to keep that going. It wasn’t sustainable, and they were too tangled together to let this die like that. They couldn’t do that. They needed each other. They always had.

But Karen wondered, sometimes, if what they had was enough. If she was enough.

They had a house, now. A dog. She had found out she couldn’t have children, and she wished the thought didn’t devastate her in the way it did. She didn’t even know if Frank would have wanted to have kids with her. She didn’t know if he wanted to do that again. It didn’t matter now.

Sure, they could adopt, but they couldn’t even talk about it. She couldn’t handle it. Frank had held her while she cried, murmuring soothing words into her hair for days, weeks, months, until finally the tears stopped.

The tears stopped, and they dried, and she and Frank moved forward. Together.

And it was good. Karen still worked as an investigator. Frank worked construction. They held each other through the nightmares that still haunted them both. They argued about leaving dishes in the sink. They kissed good morning and good night, every day. It was solid. It was a life. It was an after.

But maybe it wasn’t enough. She was afraid to ask, afraid to upset the delicate balance they had struck. It felt dangerous, precarious. Frank was so much a part of her life, so much a part of her, she couldn’t even think of the possibility of losing him.

She might as well lose herself.

* * *

Frank could see Karen’s mind whirring, every time she looked at him. She was sad. Distant. Lonely. She was standing right in front of him, washing the pans from dinner, but she was miles away.

He could see it, but he couldn’t fix it. He couldn’t make this better, no matter how much he wanted to.

It was him. He knew that. Karen wasn’t one to settle, but she had settled for him. He wanted to give her the world, but she had to make do with the little corner of it they had carved out for themselves. She still had to protect him, as much as he protected her.

Their life was good. It was clean. They worked good jobs. They came home to each other. She didn’t have to worry that he was going to get himself killed. He didn’t have to worry that he was going to get her killed.

But something was wrong. He had done something. He hadn’t done something. Something was missing, and he didn’t know what. He had been waiting for the other shoe to drop since they started this thing. Since they found each other, years ago. It was only a matter of time.

“What did I do?”

Karen blinked at him, turning slowly to face him. She wiped her hands on a dishtowel and leaned back against the counter. “What?”

“Just tell me, and I’ll fix it.” His voice broke and Karen took his hands. “Please.”

“Frank,” she murmured, tears welling up in her eyes.

This was it. She was going to leave him. He deserved that. She had sacrificed too much for him. She wanted out. He couldn’t blame her.

“Tell me what you’re thinking.” Her hands were shaking a little. So was her voice.

“I know something is wrong. So just tell me, and we’ll figure it out.” Or they wouldn’t. He swallowed, trying not to think all the way through to the end of this conversation. This might be the end, for them, and if it was, he wasn’t sure how he would survive it.

“Are you happy, Frank?”

He felt the bottom fall out of his heart. She was unhappy. He couldn’t make her happy anymore. He knew it. She had always deserved more than he could give her.

“Frank?”

“I love you,” he mumbled, swallowing the primal scream he could feel clawing its way out of his throat. He would burn the world to the ground for her, but if she told him to go, he would go. It had always been up to her.

“I love you too.” She was crying now, tears streaming down her cheeks. “I love you and I want to be enough for you, but I need to know, are you happy?” He froze. “Is our life making you happy?”

Frank stared at her, not sure he had heard her correctly. “You think you’re not enough for me? You think you don’t make me happy?”

“I just, I know things are different now. Settled. I know that might not be enough.” Her voice caught again. “I might not be enough.”

“Karen.” He couldn’t say anything else. He took her face in his hands and kissed her forehead. Her cheekbone. Her nose. Her lips. He could taste the salt on her skin. “Karen.” She sighed into him, body relaxing against his. “You’re so much more than enough. You’re everything.”

It was the truth. It always had been.


	4. you are everything to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [sevenriots](https://sevenriots.tumblr.com):  
> Yo so I saw that you are taking prompts and your writing is A+ and your fluff about Karen in Frank’s shirt was so cute (this world needs more Kastle fluff amirite). I need more fluff and decided the fluffiest and cutest possible Kastle scenario I could think of was Frank finding out Karen is ticklish while they’re wrestling or something? And then an all out attack ensues?? Fluff heaven. If you could write something along those lines, I think I could die in peace
> 
> **Rated M**

“Hey! Put me down!” Karen cried, when Frank threw her over his shoulder when they got to the top of the stairs. She might have been a little drunk. She could admit that. They had been out with Foggy and they’d had a few drinks. But she could walk on her own, whatever Frank thought.

He grunted, hand trailing up her side as he hoisted her higher. She flinched, and she could almost feel his wicked grin.

“Ticklish, Page?” She tried to shake her head, but then he did it again. She squealed and tried to push him away, but she was dangerously close to falling to the ground and he tightened his hold. “You just wait.”

Karen shivered. There was a promise in his voice.

He didn’t set her down until he had locked the door to the apartment behind them. She tried to make a run for it when he finally put her on her feet, but she was lightheaded and stumbled.

“Careful,” he mumbled, smirking as he pulled her to him. “Don’t hurt yourself.”

With both hands free, he mounted a double attack, and Karen was helpless, giggling as she collapsed to the floor. Frank didn’t hesitate to follow her down, hands working at her ribs, and Karen couldn’t breathe, she was laughing so hard. She was straining against him, trying to get away, but he wasn’t going to let her escape that easily. She didn’t mind.

She remembered how afraid he had been to touch her, at first. How hesitant he had been. How afraid he was to hurt her. She almost wished he would go back to that.

But only almost. When she looked up at him through the tears in her eyes, the smile lighting up his face was so bright she almost couldn’t look at it too long. He was straddling her hips, holding her in place while he tickled her. Staring down at her, looming over her, something in his eyes sparked, and all ideas of a tickle fight vanished.

He pushed her hands over her head and held them there, leaning down to kiss her. Karen wriggled underneath him again, relishing the groan that she dragged out of him as her hips pressed into his.

“Karen,” he growled, but it came out as more of a whisper. She bit her lip and his eyes lit up.

He reached between them, fumbling with the fly of her jeans. She pushed against his grip and he released her so she could do the same.

It was frantic, hurried. They managed to get their pants down around their knees and Karen felt the weight of him against her stomach. He caged in her head, leaning down to kiss her again, all teeth and tongues and moans muffled against each other’s lips.

His hands found her sides again, but he pushed her shirt up to reveal her lacy bra. Pawing at the cups, he tugged them down, taking one nipple in his mouth. He bit down a little, remembering how much she liked that. He always remembered, always took care of her. Karen arched into him and he grinned against her skin.

“You ready?”

She had been ready since before they left to go out. She was always ready, with Frank. She half-wondered if that would ever go away. It hadn’t, yet.

“Karen?” His eyes were gentle now, touched with concern. She reached up to graze her fingers against his cheek and he closed his eyes. She lifted her hips and he slid inside with a hiss of breath.

This was far from their first time together, but every time, Karen wondered how she had ever lived without this. Without Frank. He was everything to her. She needed him as much as he needed her. That wasn’t going away. Not ever.


	5. this love came back to me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [brookeellis](https://brookeellis.tumblr.com):  
> the ways you say i love you: when the broken glass litters the floor
> 
> **Rated G**

Karen heard the glass shatter as she pushed the door open to her apartment. She froze, fingers clutching her keys so hard her knuckles went white.

“Shit.” She let out a breath when she heard his voice. That low growl could only belong to one man.

She turned the corner into the kitchen and there he was. Frank Castle, crouching low to pick up the broken pieces of a glass vase. There were flowers on the counter, still wrapped in plastic. White roses. A lump grew in her throat at the sight of them.

“I’m sorry,” he said, flush rising in his cheeks when he saw her standing there. “I was just, I was trying to, I don’t know.” He rubbed his hand over the back of his neck. His hair was shorter, cropped close to his head. She didn’t want to know why.

“What are you doing here, Frank?” she said, interrupting his stammered apologies. She wasn’t sure he would have stopped, otherwise. He looked uncomfortable, unsure. It was a strange thing to see.

He sighed, standing to face her. A piece of glass crunched under his boot. “I had to see you.”

“What’s wrong?”

His brow furrowed. He almost looked pained at the question. “Nothing. Nothing’s wrong.”

“I don’t understand.” She shook her head. None of this made sense.

“I love you.” He tripped over the words, and they hung in the air between them until he spoke again. “I don’t know how or when or why or if you feel the same way, but I had to tell you. I had to.”

Karen felt like she was dreaming. Had she hit her head and imagined all of this? He was still talking, but she couldn’t even hear him through the ringing in her ears.

“Karen?” His dark eyes were glossy now. She hadn’t seen him this shaken, this sad, since that last day in the hospital. “I can go. I’m sorry. Let me just clean this up.” He crouched again, reaching for the next broken piece.

“Frank.” Her voice was hoarse. She stepped closer to him, ignoring the grind of the glass as it broke under her pumps. It didn’t matter. “Forget the vase.”

He froze, blinking at her. “What?”

“I don’t care about the vase.” Something glimmered behind his eyes as he stood again. Something that looked like hope. “Come here.”

He obeyed, eyes fixed on her. “Karen?” He said her name so quietly, so gently, she shivered. He was so close, she reached out to touch him.  They were broken pieces, but maybe, just maybe, they could put each other back together.

“Tell me again, Frank.”

A ghost of a smile flashed onto his face. “I love you.”

“I love you.”


	6. honey, there is no right way

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [juniperfandoms](https://juniperfandoms.tumblr.com):  
> the ways you say i love you: too quick, mumbled into your scarf
> 
>  
> 
> **Rated T**

It was cold. Too cold for spring. The wind whistled around the buildings and tangled Karen’s hair every time she went outside. She was half-tempted to stay in, but she had somewhere to be.

She got there early. Their bench was open. No one was around. Probably too cold. Perfect.

She shivered, huddling down in her coat and pulling her scarf up to cover more of her face. She checked her watch. He wasn’t late. Not yet.

Karen watched the water. It was choppy, from the cutting wind. Whitecaps surged and broke against the shore. Her eyes drifted up, to find the city skyline across from her. Millions of people, rushing through their own lives, completely unaware of the winding path that had left her here, at the edge of the water, ready to take one final leap.

“Hey.” All the air went out of her lungs at the sound of his voice. He was like a ghost, appearing out of the ether to haunt her every time.

“Frank.” His voice fell out of her mouth like a prayer. She couldn’t help that. She didn’t believe in God anymore, but she believed in Frank Castle. No matter what else happened, she believed in him.

“Wasn’t sure you’d come.”

“I wasn’t either.” She had nearly talked herself out of it a hundred times. She had no idea what he wanted, but she was here. She would always be here. “What do you need, Frank?”

He looked down, scuffing his boot along the rough pavement. “Walk with me?”

Karen’s heart stuttered in her chest. Something was going on. It had to be. Frank wouldn’t just call her, out of the blue. It wasn’t what he did. It wasn’t what they did.

He held out his hand and she took it. He was warm, despite the chill air. He didn’t let go, even as they started walking along the edge of the water. The wind picked up again, and Karen shivered.

It was too much. It had been months, since she had seen him. To be here, hand in his, like that was normal, like they could just do that, was too much for her to process.

“What’s going on, Frank?”

He glanced over at her, eyes bright with something she wasn’t sure she’d ever seen in them before. “I missed you.”

Karen dropped his hand. All the anger and the fear and the rage she had felt since that day in the hospital surged to the surface. “Frank.” He grunted. “That’s not fair.”

“I know.” The guilt dripped from his voice and Karen nearly took it back.

But only nearly. There were things she needed to say. “You can’t just do that, Frank. You can’t push me away and then pull me back when you decide you feel like it. I’m tired of this game you play. It isn’t fun and it isn’t fair.”

“I know.” He backed away from her, leaning back against the railing. “And you know that too. So, why did you come here, Karen? Why did you agree to meet me?”

She shook her head and turned away from him. She could feel his eyes on her back. She had already thought about that too many times to count. She knew the reason. She wasn’t sure she could tell him.

“I love you,” she mumbled, letting her scarf muffle the sound as it disappeared into the wind. She felt tears spilling down her cheeks, hot and fast and desperate. She wanted him to know. She was afraid of what would happen if he did.

“Karen?” He was in her space before she could turn around, dark eyes tracing the paths of her tears. He hadn’t heard her. Her heart was pounding so hard she thought it might burst. “Karen. Tell me.”

She squared her shoulders. She had said it once. She could say it again.

“I love you.” There it was. She had said it before, in a hundred different ways, but now she knew he had heard her. There was no taking it back.

His eyes went wide. She tried to think of what to say, how to soften it. He didn’t want this. He had told her so.

But then, he moved. Frank took her face in his hands and kissed her, before she could say anything else. Anything she could think to say disappeared at the first touch of his lips to hers. It was soft, gentle. Just one press of his lips to hers, before he leaned his forehead against hers, breath clouding out of his mouth with a quiet rush.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he murmured, ghosting a kiss against her brow. “Not again. Not anymore.” Karen looked into his eyes. He didn’t look away. He didn’t lie. “I love you.”


	7. that's when i could finally breathe

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [carry-the-sky](https://carry-the-sky.tumblr.com):  
> the ways you say i love you: as we huddle together, the storm raging outside
> 
> **Rated G**

Karen had always loved thunderstorms. Ever since she was a little kid, in her ginger-snap spaceship, something about the low rumble of the thunder had always settled her, made her feel grounded. The flashes of light through the cracks in the curtains, the muffled rush of the rain against the roof, everything about the storm took her back to those days, when she was lonely and afraid and so tired of her parents’ fighting and Kevin’s tears.

That was before. Before her mom got sick, before her dad ran the diner into the ground. Before the crash that broke her life into two distinct pieces. Kevin and after.

Even in the after, thunderstorms were always a solitary experience for her. She had always weathered them alone. She had always liked it that way. She didn’t believe in God, not anymore, not after everything, but she believed in the power of a thunderstorm to wash everything clean. Something about the electricity, the force, the darkness of a storm always made her feel purified.

But today, when the clouds gathered and the rain poured down, she wasn’t alone. She was laying back on her couch, between Frank’s legs. She could hear his heartbeat in between the bright, sharp slashes of lightning. She felt his chest lifting and falling, lulling her half to sleep until the next crash of sound woke her again.

“Never liked storms,” Frank said, his voice vibrating through her like the thunder.

“No?”

She felt him shake his head. “No. Always made me feel small. Helpless.”

Karen peeked back at him. He pressed his lips to her forehead and she sank into the feeling. It was sometimes hard to believe they were here. After everything, they were here, on her couch. Together.

“I think that’s good. Sometimes.” She snuggled a little closer. “Sometimes we need a reminder that we’re not in control.”

He grunted. “Maybe.”

She closed her eyes and breathed. Even with the windows closed, she imagined she could smell petrichor floating in the air, mixing with Frank’s shampoo and her body wash. It was a good smell. A clean smell. A new smell.

It was theirs. It was perfect.

“I love you,” she whispered, under a particularly loud roll of thunder. She had known it for a long time. Years, if she was really honest with herself. But it had been a long, exhausting journey to get here, and it was time for a fresh start. For both of them.

Frank’s arms squeezed her closer. “I love you.”

Thunderstorms had power. She had always known that. But she had never known quite how much.


	8. pick your poison

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not prompted, but based on Good Girls, episode 204.
> 
> Frank and Karen have an unplanned encounter between Schoonover's death and the end of Daredevil Season 2. 
> 
> **Rated E**

His face appeared in the mirror behind her, like she had summoned him there through sheer force of will. She might have been dreaming, if she couldn’t feel the sharp pinch of her skin against the ceramic edge of the sink, tethering her to reality.

It hadn’t been her intention. She was trying to get back on track with Matt, whatever that meant, and they had ended up here, at this bar. Dinner and drinks. It was normal. It was safe. Until she spotted him.

Karen knew that Frank was a killer. She had known it before she met him, back when she broke into his house to find the motivation he needed to fight back. She had seen him, heard him, as he did his bloody work. She had nightmares about the things she had seen him do. He haunted her, like a vengeful spirit out to make her pay for her own sins.

But when she caught his eye across the bar, she didn’t expect the surge of heat that rushed over her, or the instantaneous desire to talk to him, find out how he was. She hadn’t seen him since that night in the woods, but he had always had that pull on her. He was a black hole, and she was just the latest idiot to think she could get close to him without being pulled to pieces.

“I’ll be right back,” she said, and Matt nodded absently. She knew he wasn’t listening. Not to her. Things hadn’t been the same between them since that night when she caught him with another woman in his bed. In his clothes.

It didn’t matter now. Matt was the reasonable, rational choice. She knew that. She would try. She would give it another chance. She owed it to herself to do that.

But not when she could feel Frank watching her as she crossed the room to the restroom. Not when her heart raced at the very sight of him. She leaned against the sink, trying to breathe, trying to calm her nerves, when she heard the door open behind her.

He stayed there, by the door, far enough away that she could tell him to leave. He never took his eyes off her.

Karen felt wild, frantic, under his gaze. She stepped closer, so close she could feel his breath on her face. She leaned into him, to turn the lock on the door. She didn’t want to be interrupted.

Frank was still watching her. His eyes were bright, hot with something that she had always seen burning there, underneath the grief and the vengeful anger. She stepped back, facing the mirror. She caught his eye in her reflection and saw the muscle in his jaw clench. She shivered.

Karen tugged the hem of her dress up, along the back of her thighs. The fabric whispered against her skin and she closed her eyes at the sensation. When she opened them again, Frank was behind her, hands joining hers. He pulled roughly at her panties, nearly tearing them as he worked them down her legs.

His body was hot against hers, his face buried in her hair, one hand still on her ass while the other squeezed her breast. She knew what those hands could do. There was violence in them, crime scene photos and the wet, brutal sounds of a fatal beating. She knew that.

But now, those hands were strong and sure, and she ground back against him, already soaking wet between her thighs. He was mumbling words she couldn’t quite hear into her neck, his voice vibrating through her chest. She choked on a moan as it tumbled from her lips.

“Quiet,” he growled, and she heard his zipper slide down. She gripped the sink so hard, it dug into her palms, pushing back against him. She was wanton, needy. She hadn’t allowed herself to want anything this much in a long time. It was now or never.

Karen reached back to guide him inside, but Frank spun her around to press her back, against the wall. He still hadn’t kissed her. It didn’t matter.

He slid inside with a grunt and Karen’s mouth fell open in a silent scream as she stretched around him. She clutched at him, fingers digging into his back as he mouthed at her neck, tongue hot and wet against her pulse. One hand around her thigh, he slammed into her, hard enough to hurt. Hard enough to remember later.

He was rough with her, but he cradled her head, protecting her even as he claimed her. She remembered feeling him on top of her when the bullets were flying. This was different, but it was powerful, heady, to know that he cared about her, in whatever way he could. It didn’t take long before she was tumbling over the edge, clenching around him so hard it forced the breath from her lungs. His hips jerked into hers as he came, fingers tensing around her neck. Karen was embarrassed to admit that she was ready to go again, even as he softened inside her, the tension of his brutality and his heat drawing her into him again.

He pulled away after a moment, and Karen felt her legs shaking as she tried to catch her breath. She couldn’t move as she watched Frank lean down to pick up her panties. She half-expected him to shove them in his pocket, but he just handed them to her, unlocked the door, and disappeared. It was like he had never been there, like she had imagined the whole thing. The throbbing between her legs reminded her she hadn’t. It was real. It happened. She couldn’t change that. She didn’t want to.

“Everything okay?” Matt asked, when she had finally put herself together enough to return to the table.

“Sure.”

She might never see him again, but she could still feel Frank’s hands on her skin like a brand. She was his. There was no going back now.


	9. tea

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompting myself, because i haven’t written in weeks and it makes me sad. Prompt was “a perfectly brewed cup of tea” from [this prompt list](http://kastlecastles.tumblr.com/post/183832856766/64-sensory-prompts), and it is 100% fluff. enjoy! 
> 
> Rated T.

Frank had never liked tea. Coffee might as well be strapped to him in an IV, but tea had always tasted somehow bitter, somehow too earthy to be in liquid form.

“Drink,” Karen said, arms crossed over her chest. She was holding back from tapping her high-heeled shoe in impatience, but only just. “You’re not dying of hypothermia on my watch. Drink.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, taking a sip from the steaming mug. It was sweet in a way that surprised him, milkier than he ever took his coffee. The heat of it spread through him, from his thundering heart, all the way out to his numb fingers. “It’s good.”

“I’m so glad you approve. Now, are you going to tell me why you were camping out on my fire escape on the coldest night of the year, or do I have to guess?”

He smiled, hiding it behind another slow draw on the mug. “Just came to say hi.” It was true, and it wasn’t.

“Use the door the next time. Better yet, use a phone. You have my number.” Now that he was safely tucked into a blanket on her couch, cup of tea in hand, Karen’s frustration was bubbling to the surface. She had never been able to hide it from him. He loved that about her. There was something about the way her eyes flashed and skin flushed that he knew was just for him. She didn’t let herself come undone this way for just anyone. She did for him.

“Didn’t want anyone to know I was coming.”

“Even me?” Her voice wavered a little and Frank felt a stab of guilt for the way he had left things the last time they saw each other. He had kept an eye on her since then, but that day in the hospital was the last time they had talked. The look in her eyes when he told her to go still haunted him.

“Wasn’t sure you’d want to see me.”

“I always want to see you, Frank,” she said softly. He patted the cushion beside him and she sat, hands clasped tightly in her lap. “Why are you here?”

“Couldn’t stay away.” That was the truth of it. He couldn’t pretend it wasn’t.  
“Why now?” She sighed, pushing her hair behind her ears. “It’s been months, Frank. Why are you here now?”

“That case you’re investigating. It’s dangerous.”

Karen scoffed. “I know that, Frank.”

“I had to know you were okay.”

She shook her head. “That’s not fair, Frank. You don’t get to do that. I can take care of myself.”

“I know you can.” He set down the tea and took her hands in his. Her eyes snapped to his face and he tried to keep his breathing even. It was harder than he remembered, staring straight into those wide, blue eyes. “I want to help.”

She didn’t say a word, just looked down at their hands. Their fingers had tangled around each other. They were tangled around each other. Had been for a long time, if he was honest with himself.

“Please.” He was asking for so much more than to help her with an investigation, and he knew she knew that. It was her decision. If she let him in, let him stay, let him be here, with her, that was one thing. If she said no, sent him out of her apartment, told him never to come back, he would go. No questions asked.

But he was done pretending this wasn’t what he wanted. He was done pretending she wasn’t impossibly important to him. He was done with all that.

“Okay.” She smiled almost shyly, squeezing his hand. “Now, drink your tea. Won’t be much use to me if you freeze to death.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Maybe tea wasn’t so bad, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed this little ficlet. Kudos and comments are always so, so appreciated. <3


	10. scars

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [thatsitfortoday](https://thatsitfortoday.tumblr.com):  
> Tracing the scar with a fingertip, as the other stands, motionless with some hand kisses.
> 
> Rated T

Karen knew about Frank’s scars. She had seen him hurt in more ways that she could name. She couldn’t even imagine the things she hadn’t seen. She knew he carried those marks on his body, as much as he carried them in his soul. It wasn’t a surprise to see them, much as she hated the shadows of his past that haunted him that way.

But the first time he saw her scars, her shirt lifting too far when she stretched, she saw the pain and recognition in his eyes. His hands were on her before she could hide them. He’d have seen them eventually, but she thought she’d have time to tell him beforehand, warn him before he saw for himself. Nothing about them ever followed her plans. She shouldn’t have expected this to be any different. He traced the long-healed marks on her torso, over her ribcage, raising goosebumps on her skin.

“It was a long time ago,” she whispered. Frank’s eyes never left the place where his fingertips grazed the raised lines.

“What happened?” With anyone else, she would have felt self-conscious. With anyone else, she would have brushed off the question, found a way around it. Not with Frank. He deserved to know.

“Car accident.” The words stuck in her throat.

“When?”

“I was nineteen.” She could still feel it, that suspended, never-ending feeling of floating, falling, crashing into an explosion of pain and fear and bile. She blinked, half-expecting to see blood dripping into her eyes, but all she saw was the blur of her tears. “I was high. I shouldn’t have been driving. My brother died. It was my fault.”

“Karen.” He took her hands in his. The touch focused her, his palms warm and callused against her skin. His eyes centered her, dark and gentle. She was here, with Frank. She wasn’t trapped in that car, hanging upside down and screaming for her brother to wake up. He squeezed her hands in his. He understood. Of course, he understood. “Karen. It doesn’t change anything.”

“Yeah?” Her voice was choked as she tried to swallow the tears. She couldn’t hold them back. She couldn’t hold anything back from Frank.

“Yeah.” He kissed each of her hands and pulled her against him. She wrapped her arms around him, breathing him in. He was solid. He was here. He wasn’t leaving. He knew, and he wasn’t leaving.

That was everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed this very short drabble! Comments and kudos are so appreciated! <3


	11. home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [sarma](https://sarma.tumblr.com):  
> your bed after traveling
> 
> Rated G

Karen was asleep when Frank got back. It was later than he had planned, dark and quiet, nothing but the muffled sound of traffic outside. He dropped his bag in the hall and stood in the doorway of their bedroom, watching her chest rise and fall, slow and steady. She was curled toward his side of the bed, hand where his body should be. It was where he wanted to be.

He would never have left, if Curt hadn’t asked. He wanted him on his retreat with some of the guys from group, and Frank owed him too much to say no. Karen wouldn’t hear of it, anyway. She always made dinner on Thursday nights and waited for him to get back before she ate. He didn’t know where she found the energy, between her job and freelance writing, but she always made the time for him. She made sure he made time for himself, too.

He had to admit, it had been a good weekend. They went upstate, out to a cabin in the middle of nowhere. In the forest, away from the city, it was like all the things he had pushed away for so long came rushing to the front of his mind, and he had to talk about all of it. He hadn’t expected that, but he hadn’t been able to hold anything back. Not there, with those men who had shared so much with him.. He was sure that was why Curt had insisted he join them.

He was terrified, and he hadn’t really acknowledged it before. Karen was so deeply good, and so good for him, he was paralyzed by the idea of losing her. She had chosen him, and he still wasn’t sure she had made the right choice. Being away from her just made him question it all over again. He wondered if he should just disappear, let her move on and find someone new. Someone better. She deserved more.

Before he could even form another thought, Karen stirred a little in her sleep, a soft whimper carrying across the room.

Frank was at her side in a heartbeat. He had never been able to leave her to her demons. She had never left him to his.

He wrapped an arm around her and felt her breathing even out. She was warm and soft in his arms, and holding her was enough to slow his pounding heartbeat. This was where he belonged.

“Frank?” Karen whispered, blue eyes finding his in the dim light. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Me too.” He squeezed her closer, burying his nose in her soft hair. She was wearing his hoodie and he could smell his soap mixing with her shampoo. He was home and he wasn’t going anywhere if he could help it.

“How was it?”

He shook his head. He couldn’t talk about it. Not yet. Karen snuggled closer and Frank couldn’t think of anything but her. This was his bed. This was his home. This was all he needed. He had never been more sure.


	12. photograph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [sarma](https://sarma.tumblr.com):  
> finding old photographs you'd forgotten about
> 
> **Rated T**

It was just a picture. An article. The edges were yellowed and a little torn. She was barely in it. Just a sliver of her profile in the corner of the picture, blurry and out of focus. 

But she was there. Frank couldn’t take his eyes off her, thumb smoothing over the image like he could touch her. He didn’t even know why he had kept it, shoved between the pages of a book he hadn’t read since. That trial, and everything that came after, wasn’t something he was proud of. It wasn’t a time he wanted to remember. He didn’t want to look at his own face, bloody and bruised. He knew the blank look he’d see in his eyes. He had been so lost, so adrift, so furious then. 

The only thing that had tethered him to reality was her. That fiery, stubborn, infuriatingly persistent legal assistant who wouldn’t leave him alone. She broke into his house. Helped him remember.

He would still be rotting in a jail cell if it weren’t for her. She had told him so, and she was right. She saved him then, and she kept coming back to save him, over and over again. He had never deserved it, never really understood it.

Even in the picture, in the tiny piece of her face he could see, he could see the fight in her eyes, the fierce light that shone out of her like the sun.

But he had told her to leave. He pushed her away and she left. He knew it was for the best. She deserved a life he couldn’t give her, and she’d never let go unless he peeled her fingers back, one at a time.

So, he did it. He told her to go. He tried to mean it. It nearly killed him to do it, but he watched the tears well up in Karen’s eyes when she looked at him that last time. She knew what he was doing, and he had to let her go. He wanted to kiss her. He couldn’t even describe how badly he wanted to kiss her. There was no time. There was never time. He had work to do.

Looking at this photo, all his feelings came rushing back. Frank had pushed them down, forced them back, hidden them under all the bullets and blood, but they were still there. She was still there, under his skin, like an itch he couldn’t quite scratch.

It had been months. He had no right to come back into her life now. 

He had no right, but he had to try. All the vigilante justice in the world couldn’t fill the emptiness inside him. He needed Karen. He knew it. He just had to figure out what to do about it.

He knew she was going to let him have it. She was good at that. He deserved it. He should just get it over with.

But instead, he skirted the edges of her life for another week, then two, then four. He hadn’t seen her in so long, the first time he caught a glimpse of her blonde hair, blowing in the spring breeze, his breath caught in his throat. He wasn’t ready for this. He needed more time. He was a coward when it came to Karen Page.

He found her new office and walked by it more times than he cared to count. He kept an eye on her apartment building. His heart pounded every time he saw her light turn on. Or off. 

She was busy. She had moved on. He nearly talked himself out of the whole thing a hundred times.

But she wasn’t seeing anyone, at least not that he could tell. She went to work, came home, sometimes went out for a drink. No men, besides those lawyers. The one in the photo, Nelson, and Murdock. She didn’t see him outside the office, Frank noticed. He tried not to wonder why not.

By the fifth week, he wasn’t even trying to find a way back into her life, not really. He just needed to see her. He needed to be near her. He couldn’t give up the violence, but for her, he could slow down a little.

He tried to just let himself settle into that new rhythm, one that included Karen, in whatever peripheral way he could manage. But he had never been a man who could sit still. He had to do something, let her know he was still around. He left a note on Karen’s desk and walked away before he could overthink it. He tried to put all his feelings, all his torment, into a few lines on a blank card. He had never been good with words. She always got in earlier than the others, so she would see it soon. He could wait, crappy coffee rapidly cooling in its styrofoam cup. He would know soon. 

He thought he was prepared for whatever reaction she had. He had seen her in every mood, every possible situation. But he realized, too late, that he had never really seen her cry. He had seen tears well up in those impossibly blue eyes, but she always held them back until he was gone. She protected him in a way he had never understood, and certainly never deserved.

Today, she was crying. He could see it as soon as she left the office, shoulders shaking, head down. She had hardly made it to her desk, and she was already out the door. He did that to her. He made her cry. He was at her side in a heartbeat, coffee spilling onto the sidewalk when he dropped the cup. He didn’t even think about it. It didn’t matter.

She gasped, sniffling a little. “Frank?”

It broke his heart to see her like this. “Karen.”

“Why did you leave this for me?” His note was crumpled in her hand. Her fingers were shaking. “Why are you here?”

“Karen.” He didn’t know what to say. His head felt fuzzy. He could smell her perfume. It was all he could focus on. “I’m sorry.” It was the truth. He couldn’t even explain how sorry he was.

Her arms were around him, then. Her hair was soft against his face. She was trembling under his hands. He didn’t want to let go. He couldn’t. Not again.

“Buy me a coffee?” she mumbled.

Frank grinned. “You got it.”

* * *

It was odd, seeing him again. It was odd, because it wasn’t. They fell into step beside one another like it had only been hours, not months. Karen’s tears dried on her cheeks. She would have been embarrassed, but she was done hiding how she felt.

Frank kept glancing at her, almost like he was afraid she would disappear if he looked away for too long. She wasn’t the one who disappeared. That wasn’t how this worked.

But she appreciated it, despite herself. He still cared, even after all these months. She hadn’t gotten over it. Not really. He hadn’t either, if the note on her desk was any indication.

She had known it was him as soon as she saw it. She didn’t even have to read it to know. She read it anyway, the handful of words that said more than anyone else could possibly understand. All the pain and fear and grief that had been haunting her since the hospital came rushing to the surface at the sight of Frank’s handwriting, and she couldn’t stay there. She needed air.

She should have known he’d be right outside. He always appeared when she least expected it. She should have been expecting it, but she wasn’t. She wanted to touch him again. She felt like she was dreaming.

They found a small cafe a few blocks away. It was crowded, noisy. It was perfect. No one would notice them here.

Karen took a breath, let the aroma of the coffee seep into her pores and settle her a little. The world was still spinning, she was still breathing, and Frank Castle was sitting across from her in a coffee shop.

“You look well,” she said, grabbing on to the one thing she could think to say. What was there to say? He had sent her away, told her to go. She held onto an increasingly fragile hope that he hadn’t meant it, but as the months dragged on, it was harder and harder to believe.

“Yeah,” he mumbled, pushing his hat off his head and rubbing his palm over his scalp. His hair was short again. He wasn’t hiding anymore.

“Where have you been?” The question slipped out before she could stop it. There was a bite in her voice she couldn’t control. She was angry. She was hurt. Seeing him again wasn’t going to change that.

“Around.”

Karen raised an eyebrow. Frank looked down at his coffee cup, steam rising in spirals she could see against the black of his coat. He had never been a man of many words, but this was ridiculous.

“Why now?” 

Frank shrugged and Karen felt the blood rushing to her cheeks. She wanted to cry. She wanted to scream. She wanted to yell all the things she had thought and felt and wondered and feared, right into his face, so he couldn’t hide from it.

He took her hand. She stared down at it, blinked at the place where their hands met. She thought she might faint. 

“Karen.” His thumb traced over her knuckles, rough and gentle all at once. Karen could hear her heart pounding in her chest. She wondered if he could feel it, thudding under her skin. “I missed you.”

Her breath came out in a huff. “What?”

“I tried to stay away.” He tripped over the words as he spoke, but there was no stopping him now. She didn’t want to. She needed to hear this. He needed to say it. “I tried. I really did. But then I found this.”

He pushed a yellowed scrap of newsprint across the table to her. It was a picture of him, at his trial, face bruised and battered. He had come so far since that first day in the hospital. They had both come so far, together.

But there was still something holding them both back. It might not be a red line, drawn by people who didn’t know him and didn’t know her, but it was still there. His hand on hers was the first step. They still had a long way to go.

“And that’s why you left the note?”

He nodded. “You’re important to me. I need you in my life. I’m done pretending I don’t. However you’ll have me, I need you.”

Karen was stunned. So stunned, she pulled her hand back in reflex. She didn’t mean to do it. She just couldn’t touch him and process what he was saying. Her brain felt like it was short-circuiting. Frank’s face fell, and he pushed back his chair with a nod. It looked like resignation. It looked like the end of something that had never even begun.

“Wait.” She nearly said his name, but remembered the people around them. She couldn’t remember his pseudonym. Everything had flown out of her head but the sight of him walking away. Again.

She left her cup on the table, and hurried after him. She made sure to grab the photo before she left. She could remember that much, at least. He walked fast. He was nearly around the corner before she caught up to him.

“Will you wait?” she said, breathing hard. 

“I get it, Karen. You don’t need this. I told you to go, and you’ve moved on. I get it.” He shuffled his feet. He wouldn’t look at her.

“No, you don’t.” He still wasn’t meeting her eyes, and Karen felt the same surge of impulsivity that had pushed her across that red line in the first place. She took his collar in her hands and pulled him to her, lips on his in a hasty kiss.

He froze, and then his hands were on her waist, holding her there. She wasn’t planning on moving. It had taken too long to get here, and she wasn’t letting go now. He was warm, hot under her fingers. His teeth grazed her skin and she shivered.

“I missed you too. I need you too.” She was breathless. She was light-headed. She didn’t care.

He smiled, eyes crinkling at the corners. “Yeah?”

“Yeah. So don’t you dare walk away from me again. You hear me?”

“Yes, ma’am.”


	13. shoes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [nxbodygoesafterher](https://nxbodygoesafterher.tumblr.com):  
> take off your clothes, but leave the heels on
> 
>  
> 
> **Rated E**

Frank was still getting used to this. He had had friends, before. He had friends now. David, Curtis, even Sarah.

But Karen had  _ friends _ , the kind that expect you to go out and drink and dance and socialize on a regular basis. He hadn’t signed up for that.

But the smile she shot his way while she spun around the dance floor with her formerly floppy-haired friend was worth it. The outfit she chose to go out in was  _ definitely _ worth it, tight around her hips and short enough to make him ache. Her hair was loose, wild around her shoulders, sticking to her neck the longer she danced. Her eyes glittered in the flashing lights, sapphires in the darkness, focused only on him.

It was the shoes that really got him, though. She often wore heels, little kitten heels that made her look professional but that wouldn’t stop her from running away if she needed to. He loved that she thought through those kinds of things. He hated that she had to, but she was smart enough to take care of herself. She had been very clear about that. He didn’t need the reminder. He knew.

These shoes were something else entirely. He hadn’t known she owned shoes like this. Shiny red pumps that made her tower over everyone, him included. Her legs always looked amazing, but in these shoes, he couldn’t take his eyes off them. Or her.

When a new song came on, she sank into the seat beside him, snaking his beer out of his hand to take a deep drink. “Having fun?” she said, pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Frank grunted something incomprehensible as he pressed a kiss to her neck. Karen melted under his touch and when he pulled away, he saw her eyes light up. A shiver of anticipation raced through him.

“Ready to go?” she purred, flush rising in her cheeks. He knew it had nothing to do with the temperature.

He didn’t know how he managed to get them both home without tearing her dress off, but he focused on taking deep breaths and not looking at her more than he could help. Karen wasn’t helping, hands tracing over his arms, his thighs, his neck in the back of the cab. 

Once the apartment door was closed, all bets were off. She had been driving him crazy all night and it was time for a little payback. His hands were at the hem of her dress before she had even dropped her keys, his lips laying a trail of sloppy kisses down to her chest and back up to her ear. She moved to step out of her shoes, but Frank shook his head.

“Leave the heels on,” he growled, mouth hot against her collarbone. Karen’s smile widened and she pulled him up to kiss her, hard and rough and full of teeth. He lifted her by the waist and carried her into their bedroom. “Take your clothes off.”

He sank down on the bed and watched her slide the zipper down the back of her dress, one inch at a time, peeking over her shoulder at him. He had never seen anything so sexy in his life. She wriggled her hips as she shifted it down, down, down, until the slinky dress was in a pile on the floor.

She stepped out of it, legs a mile long, wearing nothing now but her lacy bra and panties and those damn shoes. She had taken the trouble to match them all. He wondered, not for the first time, if she really knew him that well, if she knew this was coming. Of course, she did.

“Come here,” Frank said, and she stepped towards him, all ease and grace. When his fingertips tightened on her waist, he could feel her pulse pounding. She wanted this. He could feel it. He didn’t have to question it. He knew her, too.

Her knees fell to the mattress, framing his hips. The heat of her was almost too much to bear, when she sank down against him. He couldn’t get enough contact. He was still wearing his jeans, his button-down, his boots. He had been too caught up in Karen to do anything about them. He was too paralyzed with need for her to do anything about them now.

“Let me help you,” she whispered. She always knew.

She slid off him to kneel at his feet, tugging at the laces and pulling off his boots, one at a time. She sat up, fingers deftly opening his fly and sliding his jeans and boxers down his legs. Frank groaned, and Karen grinned up at him. She licked her lips and kissed the inside of his thigh. One of his hands tangled into her hair and she hummed against his skin.

She traced the flat of her tongue over his length, before taking him in her mouth. Frank stripped his shirt off over his head and just tried to take in the sight of her, all lace and patent leather and silky hair, and Karen. Just Karen. Just him.

“Come up here,” he managed to choke out. He reached for her and she straddled him again. He smoothed his hands over her pale skin, marveling again at the softness she gave him, over and over again. His fingers found the clasp of her bra and released it.

“Frank,” she murmured, hands wrapped around his neck, fingernails digging into the skin in the way she knew he liked. “Please.”

He lifted her and laid her on the bed, tugging her panties down her thighs as slowly as she kept murmuring his name, squirming for his touch.

He didn’t touch her. Not yet. He took a deep breath, tried to hold this image in his mind. He never wanted to forget this: Karen Page, quivering for him, naked except for her red heels.

He bent to kiss her ankles, her calves, her knees, her thighs. He swiped one finger over her center and she sighed her pleasure, clenching her muscles around him. She was so wet, so ready.

Frank had been so afraid, for so long, to go near her, to touch her. It had taken them a long time to find their way to their first kiss. And now, here they were, vulnerable and open and unafraid. He didn’t have anything to be afraid of, with Karen. She never had to be afraid of him. They both knew that. They both needed this.

“Please,” she keened, hips canting up toward him as he stroked her. “Frank.”

Frank smiled. “Wrap those legs around me.”

Karen nodded, pulling him down to kiss her again as he slid inside. He would never get over the feeling of being inside her. He could feel the points of the heels grazing his lower back and they spurred him on. He pressed his thumb to Karen’s clit, circling it in the way he knew drove her wild. She writhed against him, even as he thrusted harder, shoes digging into his spine with a bite of pain that sharpened every sensation until it was almost too much to take.

It didn’t take either of them long to fall over the edge, crying each other’s names into the darkness. Frank collapsed to Karen’s side, pulling her against him, heart pounding in his chest. 

“So, I guess you like my new shoes, huh?” 


	14. don't go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [happyendingsforevermore](https://happyendingsforevermore.tumblr.com):  
> "I love you. Please don't go."
> 
> **Rated T**

Karen Page was tired. Exhausted, really. The last thing she wanted to do was go out for a drink with a man she had tried her best to leave behind.

But when the note appeared on her fire escape, she couldn’t help herself. The bone-deep desire to know more about him, connect with him, brought her here, to this seedy bar that reminded her uncomfortably of Josie’s, of all those nights when she first thought she could build something with a mysterious man who kept her at arm’s reach.

She sighed and took a long drink of her beer, glancing at her watch. If he wasn’t here in ten minutes, she was leaving. She was tired of this game, tired of chasing him, tired of losing sleep, tired of it all.

“Karen?” The low growl behind her could only belong to one man. 

She nodded. She didn’t turn around. Frank’s knee brushed her bare leg when he sat beside her and she hated that she still felt a shiver of something. He could still do that to her, with nothing more than her name and a brush of fabric.

“How’ve you been?” He looked good, when she finally glanced over at him. Still a few bruises, more scars than she remembered, but whole, and seemingly not in pain. That was an improvement.

“What do you want?” She had neither the time nor the patience for this tonight. She shouldn’t have come. Too much had happened. She wasn’t ready for this.

“Karen.” 

She turned to face him, feeling the rage blazing through her that she had held down before. She had to, didn’t she? When there was a bomber, or cops, or death threats against him, she couldn’t very well be angry at him. Now, she could.

“Don’t  _ Karen _ me, okay? You told me to leave. I left. So did you. You disappeared and I didn’t even know if you were alive.”

“Yes, you did.”

It was true. She had found enough tangential evidence to be fairly sure, but she wasn’t going to give an inch on this. It had hurt too much, for too long, to give him this small win.

“You could have called. If you really wanted to see me, you knew how to reach me. I’m not hard to find.”

“You’re right.” He nodded, as the bartender slid a bottle of beer across the bar to him. “I should have called you sooner.”

She ignored the way her heart skipped. “So, why didn’t you?” 

He sipped his beer, carefully avoiding her eyes. “I was scared.”

“Of what? Of me?”

He shrugged, a shadow of a blush rising in his cheeks. “I just, I needed to see you tonight.”

“Why?” she pressed, slamming her bottle down on the bar. “Tell me.”

Frank swallowed and shook his head.

She waited for a moment, and when he didn’t speak again, she shrugged. “Okay, well, when you’re ready to actually talk to me, let me know.” She stood, throwing a few bills down for her beer. She shouldn’t have come. This only ever ended one way.

She was half a block down the street before he caught up to her. “Karen, wait.”

“Why, Frank?” she hissed, too aware that they could still be overheard. However angry she was at him, she didn’t want to be responsible for getting him arrested again. When he didn’t answer immediately, she started walking again.

“I love you. Don’t go.” 

Karen froze. The words echoed between them, five words that couldn’t be taken back. Five syllables that changed everything. She turned slowly on the spot to face him. 

“What?” Was she having a nervous breakdown? A hallucination? They said that lack of sleep was worse than being drunk if it got too severe. That had to be it. Any explanation made more sense than Frank Castle confessing his love to her outside a dive bar in the middle of Hell’s Kitchen after months of radio silence.

“I love you.” He took her hands in his, gently, carefully, like he thought she might hit him if he moved too quickly. After the way she had acted, after what she had said, he was probably right to be cautious. He didn’t need to be.

Karen blinked. She could feel the warmth of his skin against hers. She could see the hope lighting Frank’s brown eyes. She could almost hear his heart pounding against his ribs.

“I was afraid I’d lose you, and I pushed you away, and I get it, I hurt you and you deserve to let me have it.” He chuckled a little. “But I had to tell you, once. Twice, I guess.”

“You love me?” Karen hated that her voice broke over the words, but she couldn’t help that.

“Yeah. I do. I fought it for a long time, but the kid wouldn’t shut up about it until I told you.”

Karen smiled. “Smart kid.”

“Yeah.” He moved a step closer. “That mean you’ll stay? Talk to me?”

“On one condition.”

“Name it.”

“You don’t  _ ever _ disappear on me again.” She poked a finger into his chest. “I’ll make my own decisions about you and us and this, thank you very much.”

“Oh, is there an us already?” He was smirking now, and Karen’s eyes narrowed. He was teasing her.

“If you’re lucky.”

“Already been too lucky, where you’re concerned, ma’am.”

He was so close, she could feel his breath on her face. Her eyes fluttered closed and his lips met hers, warm and soft. Karen’s head was spinning, but she didn’t want it to stop. She never wanted this to stop. She would stay here, in this moment, for as long as she could. As soon as it ended, they would have to deal with reality again, and she wasn’t in the mood just now. 

For now, he loved her, and she would stay.


	15. happy

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [thatsitfortoday](https://thatsitfortoday.tumblr.com)  
> "All I wanted was for you to be happy."
> 
> **Rated T**

Karen thought she had moved on, from Frank, from Matt, from all of it. She had, in all the ways that really mattered. She had friends, she had a new job that challenged her, she didn’t have nearly so many death threats these days. Life was good.

Life was okay. 

Life wasn’t great, if she was really honest with herself. She wasn’t unhappy, exactly, but something was missing.

She couldn’t let herself think about what that something might be. It hovered at the edges of her vision, a blurry figure in her dreams that never sharpened into anything real.

She buried herself in her work, went out for drinks with Foggy and Marci, and tried not to think about it. It had worked for months. She was moving forward with her life. 

But all that came to a crashing halt when she went inside a cute little coffee shop that had just opened around the corner from the office. The heat had gone out in her building the night before, so she had spent the whole night shivering under all the blankets she owned. The cold was too much for her. It reminded her of Vermont. It reminded her of Kevin. She didn’t sleep.

She froze, mouth open in a yawn, when she saw him. Frank Castle was there, smiling and laughing with a pretty blonde woman. She hit his arm playfully and he didn’t even flinch. He hardly looked like the same person she had last seen in that hospital bed, bruised and bloodied and broken. He looked safe. He looked whole. He looked happy.

Karen tried to leave before he saw her, but those brown eyes caught hers before she could move. His face fell and he said something to the woman across from him, low and urgent. He wasn’t laughing now. The woman turned, and Karen tried to force herself to move, but she was paralyzed. She felt all the blood drain out of her face as they stared at her.

“Karen?” He was here, in front of her, hands stretched out to her, to catch her if she fell. As if she hadn’t already fallen.

“I’m going to go,” she mumbled, pushing her hair behind her ear. Something about hearing his voice provoked her fight-or-flight response and she was ready to bolt. She felt out of control. She needed to get out of there.

“Wait,” she heard him say, as the door slammed shut behind her. She didn’t expect him to follow her. He didn’t.

Karen didn’t go back to the office. She went home and shivered in the bone-deep cold and loneliness she had been running from for so long. She didn’t know how long she sat there, wrapped up in blankets in her bed, alone. She couldn’t even find the energy to cry. This was good. It was better this way. Frank deserved to find someone who made him smile. She had no reason, no right, to expect that person to be her. It was ridiculous of her to keep holding onto the faint hope that it might be. Now she knew. That was better. She could move on for real now.

A soft knock on her door startled her out of her thoughts. She crept to peer through the peephole, still wrapped in her mom’s old blanket. 

“Frank,” she breathed, throwing the door open. His brow was furrowed, smile gone from his face. His ghosts had returned, just like hers. This was what they did to each other.

“Hey, I’m sorry about earlier.” He rubbed a hand on the back of his neck, looking sheepish.

“You don’t have to apologize, Frank.” She swallowed. She needed to let him go. For both their sakes. “All I wanted was for you to be happy.”

He blinked at her. “What?”

“All I ever wanted was for you to find something, find someone, for your after. If you have, that’s great. I’m glad for you.” A weak smile wavered on her lips, but she held his gaze. “I mean it. I’m glad you found someone who makes you happy.”

He huffed out a laugh, sharp and bitter with something Karen couldn’t quite place. “That’s what you think? I moved on, found someone else?”

She shrugged, like it didn’t break her heart to think about it. “Haven’t you?”

“That was Sarah. Sarah Lieberman.”

Karen’s hand flew up to her mouth as a blush rose in her cheeks. “Oh.”

“Yeah. We get coffee sometimes. She likes to make sure I’m taking care of myself.”

“You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Frank.” Karen was suddenly very aware that they were still standing in her doorway. She was in ratty sweatpants and wrapped in an old blanket. Somehow, that didn’t matter.

“Yes, I do. I should have done it months ago and I didn’t, because I was too chickenshit to tell you how I felt. Sarah made that pretty clear to me after you ran off.”

Karen’s heart skipped in her chest. “How do you feel, Frank?”

He stepped closer to her, heat radiating off him like a furnace. He tipped his head towards her, forehead pressing against hers, and she held her breath, eyes falling closed. His hands came up to cradle her face, gentler than they had any right to be. She couldn’t open her eyes. If she did, she might wake up. If she did, he might disappear.

But he didn’t. He held her there, breathing with her, slow and even, until Karen thought her heart might burst from the anticipation. She could still feel his eyes on her, warm and heavy, and she leaned in, closing the space between them. It was only an inch or two, but it might have been miles, for as long as it had taken them to cross it.

It didn’t matter, now. The first touch of his lips to hers lit a fire in her she hadn’t even realized had gone out, heating her from the inside out. He eased her back, into the apartment, closing the door behind him, never breaking the kiss. His tongue, his teeth, his touch, it was all too much for Karen to take. She felt dizzy. She didn’t care. It was worth it. He was worth it.

They could be happy. She knew they could. This was what she had been missing, and now that she had found it again, found Frank again, she wasn’t letting go.


	16. stay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [klarolineepiclove](https://klarolineepiclove.tumblr.com):  
> "You've always felt like home to me"
> 
> **Rated T**

“Karen!”

His voice echoed through the empty warehouse that hadn’t turned out to be empty as he had hoped. She didn’t answer him and he tried to keep his breathing under control.

When he saw her, she was on the ground, arms and legs at odd angles. His heart pounded in his chest. He ran to her side, checking that she was breathing. Her pulse was weak, and her eyes were fluttering closed as he pulled her into his arms.

“Stay with me,” he whispered, seeing too much red on the blue of her blouse, red staining the blonde of her hair. “Push down on this for me, okay?” He tore off a piece of his shirt and pressed her hand over it. They had to stop the bleeding. “I’m going to get you out of here.”

“Frank,” she whispered, a hint of a smile on her face. “Frank.” Her hand twitched over the fabric, and he knew he had to focus. He couldn’t lose her. Not like this. He would burn the city to the ground if anything happened to her, starting with Red and his damn office that sent her here in the first place.

He got her to the van as fast as he could manage, trying not to notice how her arm went limp and fell to her side. He had to get her to a hospital. He had to save her. He couldn’t lose her.

* * *

 

The lights were blinding when Karen opened her eyes. Everything was white and pristine. Sterile. Nothing like the warehouse she remembered being in.

She tried to move, but the sharp pain shooting through her shoulder forced her to stop. She tried to breathe through it, but sank back into the pillows, defeated.

Immobilized, she looked around. It looked like a pretty ordinary hospital, except for the figure slumped in the chair beside her bed. Frank.

He hadn’t even changed his clothes. She wondered how long he had been here, how long she had been out. She wondered why he had stayed.

He sat up with a jolt, blinking hard. His eyes found hers and his shoulders relaxed a fraction of an inch.

“How you feeling?” His voice was raspy. Deep shadows under his eyes told her they had been here a while.

“Better than I should be.”

Frank’s eyes flashed. “Don’t say that.”

“Why are you-” Karen stopped, considering her words carefully. She knew Frank. If she said the wrong thing, he was liable to bolt. She didn’t want that. She wanted him here. “How are you here?”

“Madani.” He said it so simply, like that explained everything. Karen didn’t have the energy to ask. “You want me to go?”

He started to stand. Ready to run, just like she expected. 

“No. Please stay.”

He settled back into the chair, fingers tapping on his knuckles while he stared down at the worn linoleum tiles under his boots.

Karen chuckled, and he looked up. “Some role reversal, huh?”

A ghost of a smile lifted the corners of his lips. “Yeah, but no one’s drawing a line around you and telling me to stay out.” The growl in his voice rumbled through her. After everything that had happened between them, he was still ready to fight anyone who tried to keep him from her.  

“Then why are you so far away?” The painkillers they had her on were loosening her tongue. It needed to be said.

He froze. Keeping his eyes on her, he shifted his chair closer, so his knees were grazing the edge of the bed.

“You remember that first day we met?” Karen said. She wanted to talk about this, not the last time they were in a hospital together. That time was something else. That time didn’t matter now.

Frank nodded. “How could I forget? Some crazy lady shoving a picture of my family in my face and yelling at me to get my shit together.” His smile widened. “You were never scared of me, were you?”

“No.” She shook her head. It was the truth. “I knew there was more to you than the rumors. I didn’t know what it was, but I knew there was something else there.”

“And did you figure it out?”

“Think I did.”

Frank’s eyebrows shot up. “Yeah?”

Karen bit her lip. She had tried not to think about him, tried not to wonder how he was, but she had spent too long thinking about this, about them, to keep it to herself. He was here now, and she had to say it. “You’ve always felt like home to me.”

* * *

 

_Where’s home, Frank?_  Maria’s voice echoed through his mind as he blinked at Karen.

_Come home._

_I am home._

“Frank?” Karen was looking at him now, concern in those bright blue eyes. She was blushing a little. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said anything. We haven’t seen each other in so long and it’s not fair of me to do that and-”

He interrupted her. “You mean it?”

Her eyes softened. “Of course I do.”

Something warm surged through him and he closed a hand over hers, squeezing it. “You’re home for me too.” It was the truth. Had been since those days a long time ago, in a different hospital, he just hadn’t let himself admit it. He couldn’t, then. He had to, now.

“Then why don’t you stay this time?” She took his hand in both of hers. “Stay with me. Be home with me.”

He stood, his other hand cradling her head. She had nearly died. They didn’t have to rush this. He kissed her forehead. “I’m not going anywhere. Get some rest. I’ll be here.”

She settled back into the pillows and Frank paused at the door, looking back at her, blonde hair splayed over the pillows as her eyes closed. He didn’t deserve her, but he couldn’t leave her again. Not now. He was home, and he was going to stay.


	17. sick

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [thatsitfortoday](https://thatsitfortoday.tumblr.com):  
> "Come cuddle."
> 
> **Rated T.**

Karen was sick. She was sick, and she hadn’t told him. Frank knew something was wrong when she cancelled their monthly coffee meeting. As hard as he had tried to keep her at arm’s length, she kept finding ways to wrap herself more firmly around his life, and he couldn’t say no. He could never say no to her.

It wasn’t like it was a date or anything. They were both very clear about that. They met at a different cafe every time, so no one would get too used to them. They had plenty of places to choose from. They talked about what they had been up to. No details, but a general picture. They made sure they were both okay, and then left again. He pretended he didn’t wonder about her between meetings. She did the same. 

She had never cancelled before. Even when she was up to her eyes in work, she always made time for him. Frank’s mind immediately jumped to the worst case scenario when she texted to say she couldn’t make it. He knew she was careful, he knew she could handle herself, but she dealt with some real scumbags in her line of work, and if one of them had hurt her, he would track them down and pull their spine out through their throat. 

But she sent a follow-up, a picture of herself, nose red and hair messy. Frank felt all the rage go out of him at the sight of her. He was dialing her number before he could stop himself.

“You need anything?”

“No,” she said, cough muffled through the phone. “I’m okay, really. I’m sorry I can’t make it today. I should be better by next week, if that works.”

“I’m coming over.” It wasn’t a question. 

“Frank, no. You don’t have to. I’m fine, really. I have Nyquil, I have a blanket, I have tea.”

“Soup?”

She sighed. “No.”

“I’m coming over.”

He stopped at the store and cleared them out of everything even remotely cold-related. He couldn’t have explained why this was suddenly so important to him, but he didn’t have time to think about it too hard. Karen needed him. 

He slipped into her building behind an elderly couple. They didn’t even notice him. He’d have to talk to Karen about moving to a more secure building. Not today, but sometime soon. He knocked on her door, wishing he had a key so he wouldn’t disturb her, then realizing what that would mean. He didn’t need a key. He shook the idea from his mind.

She answered the door after a moment, rubbing her eyes and holding a tissue to her nose. She waved him in with a grunt and sank down on her couch, groaning as she wrapped herself in a blanket.

“I brought you some other kinds of medication, some soup, cough drops, those tissues with lotion in them, and nasal spray.”

“Just come here, Frank.” He could hear the congestion in her sleepy, raspy voice.

“What do you need?” He was ready to run out to the store again if he had forgotten something. Whatever she needed, he would get her.

“Come cuddle,” she said and Frank stepped back a little. She might have punched him, he was so startled.

“Wh-what?” 

“I’m freezing and this blanket isn’t doing anything. Please come cuddle with me.”

She was shivering, and Frank could feel the fever when he pressed the back of his hand to her skin. He shucked off his jacket and sat on the couch beside her. She nudged him over so he was lying down, and crawled up to cuddle against his chest. Her hair was sticking to her neck, and Frank gathered it in one hand, twisting it absently through his fingers.

Karen made a purring sound that vibrated through him and Frank stayed as still as he could. If this was what she needed to get some rest, he could do it. He would do it. 

He watched her sleep, felt her breaths get longer and slower as she drifted off. It should have felt strange, to be here with her while she slept, but it didn’t. That scared him more than anything. He shouldn’t be here, but he couldn’t leave. 

He must have fallen asleep, Karen’s warmth leaving him relaxed in a way he hadn’t been in a long time. When he woke, it was getting dark. Karen was still sleeping, but her skin was cooler now when he touched her forehead. Her fever had broken.

Frank knew he should get up, make her some soup, clean up a little, but he didn’t want to disturb her. Some time in the hours they had been napping, something had clicked in his head. There was a reason that, every time he tried to push her away, she found a way to get even closer. There was a reason that he instantly volunteered to come over and take care of her. There was a reason he hardly hesitated when she asked him to hold her.

He already knew she was important to him. He knew he cared for her. He knew she cared for him. But they had never done this. They had never thrown away the careful boundaries they had drawn between them, first in red tape on the floor, then in unspoken agreements not to get too close. 

All it took was some Nyquil and a fever to get them here, and Frank didn’t want to leave. He was hers, for as long as she would have him. He couldn’t turn back now.

Karen’s eyes blinked open and she smiled up at him, slow and lazy.

“Feeling better?”

“Much better. Thank you.” She stretched, moving against him, and Frank couldn’t help himself.

He leaned down and kissed her, before he could talk himself out of it. Karen let out a soft sigh and pressed closer, one hand snaking behind his head to hold him to her. 

When they broke the kiss, Karen’s smile wavered a little. “Frank?”

“Let me make you some soup.” He couldn’t talk about it. Not now. Not while the feeling of her lips on his still tingled under his skin. They could talk about this, about them, once she was feeling better. He knew she wouldn’t let him out of it.

That was fine. That was perfect.

For now, he could make some soup. There was time for all that later.


	18. go to sleep

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From this prompt by [guillermodltoro](https://guillermodltoro.tumblr.com):  
> hello first of all i love your fics so much, and so I saw a post with alternative ways the "bed sharing" trope could end up and there was this one that went something like "would you please get comfortable and go the fuck to sleep already", and I just can't stop thinking about kastle?? would you consider writing something about that? and also thanks for all the amazing work 
> 
>  
> 
> **Rated T**

It wasn’t supposed to go this way. Karen was just supposed to do a quick initial investigation into a lead on a drug ring and then come back. Nothing out of the ordinary.

She hadn’t even thought that this particular drug ring might be a target for Frank. She had tried to stop thinking about him at all. Since everything that happened at the hospital, she had thrown all her energy into finding information Foggy and Matt could use to help people, the right way. Frank wanted to go it alone, and she couldn’t keep chasing him.

She knew that. It didn’t change the way her heart skipped a beat when she saw him, hulking and dark as he emerged from the shadows. It didn’t change the fact that she instantly catalogued all the scrapes and bruises she could see on his skin, wondering what he was still hiding from her. It didn’t change the shiver that went down her spine at the sound of his voice, scraping against the silence outside the abandoned building she was in the middle of investigating.

“You can’t be here,” he growled, hand closing around her arm as he tried to lead her away.

“Excuse me?” she shot back. “Let go of me, Frank.”

He dropped his hand immediately, holding it up in surrender. “You still can’t be here.”

“Why not? It’s  _ too dangerous _ ?” Barely-contained fury dripped from her words. She was so tired of being doubted, so tired of being treated like some innocent little girl who didn’t know what she was getting into. Even after everything she had told Foggy and Matt, even after everything they had seen and done together, she still felt their unspoken doubts when she was going after leads like this, and she was sick of it.

Frank scoffed. “Not anymore. Just don’t want you to stick around until someone finds all the bodies in there.” He shrugged. “Up to you.”

Karen sighed. “We need to talk.”

Frank shifted a little, shoulders slouching out of his usual military readiness. If Karen didn’t know any better, she’d say he was nervous. “‘Bout what?”

She raised an eyebrow. It was like that, then. “Fine. Whatever. In the future, stay out of my cases, okay?”

“Your cases?” He stepped towards her, blocking the path in front of her, so Karen couldn’t storm off, like she so badly wanted to. “You a lawyer now?”

“Investigator.” She sniffed. “And you’ve just blown up a case I’ve been working on for a month, so thanks for that.”

He ran a hand over his face. He looked exhausted. “Alright, maybe we should talk. There’s a diner two towns over. Meet me there.”

Karen sat in her car for longer than she wanted to admit, seriously considering the possibility of standing him up. It would serve him right, after how he treated her.

She couldn’t do it. Whatever had happened between them, whatever had been said and done and felt between them, she needed this closure. She owed it to herself to get it.

He was there, facing the door, baseball cap hiding his eyes. It felt too much like how they had begun. It brought her all the way back to that night in that other diner, when she had truly discovered exactly what he was and what he could do. She squared her shoulders and slid into the booth across from him, tapping her fingers on the laminated menu. Her heart was racing and she tried to slow it down with a deep breath. There was no reason to be nervous, not now. 

“So, investigator, huh?” Frank grunted, holding up his coffee mug to the waitress, who poured him a fresh cup and brought one for Karen.

“Yeah. What about it?” She waited for the lecture about how she shouldn’t be doing that, how it wasn’t safe. She had heard it all before, from Matt and Foggy and all the rest. Everyone wanted to protect her. They didn’t seem to understand that she wasn’t the one who needed protecting.

“I need your help.”

Karen froze, coffee halfway to her lips. “What?”

Frank sighed, staring out the window. “There’s this guy on my radar and I can’t quite pin him down. Think you could help me?”

Whatever she had thought he wanted to talk about, this wasn’t it. She blinked at him, trying to process what he was asking. He didn’t seem to think there was anything strange about it. He didn’t tell her anything else about the case. He just waited for her response. She was sure, if she said no, that would be the end of it. 

“Tell me more. Why are you trying to find this guy?” She took a sip of the bitter coffee, wincing as it burned down her throat. She would have preferred whiskey, after the day she’d had, but this would have to do.

“You’ll do it? You’ll help me?”

She shrugged. She had never been able to say no to him when he needed her. “Tell me what you need me to do.”

* * *

 

They talked until late into the night, over eggs and pancakes and more watery coffee than Karen had had in a long time. Frank told her all about the guy he was tracking, how he kidnapped little girls and sold them into sex slavery. His voice shook with rage as he explained how he had had been tracking him for months, but he was no closer to catching him. Karen knew how he felt. She felt sick the whole time he was talking, just thinking about it. She pushed the remnants of her food away from her, sitting back into the booth with a yawn.

“You need to get back to the city?” There was something else he was asking, under the question, but Karen was too tired to figure it out. 

“I’ll just text Foggy and Matt and let them know I’ll be gone longer than I expected.” She shrugged. It wasn’t the first time it had happened, and it certainly wouldn’t be the last.

“You going to tell them what happened?”

Karen shrugged again. She knew what he meant. “Do I need to? They’ll find out soon enough.”

Frank stared at her over the rim of his mug. “Come on. I’ve got a room at a motel down the road. You can probably get a room too. Get some rest.”

She nodded. It had been a very long day. She could use a shower and a good night’s sleep. She couldn’t deny that. 

But when they got to the motel, they didn’t have any rooms available. It was hunting season, they said, and they were sold out. From the looks of things, there wasn’t another motel for miles.

Karen sighed “I can sleep in my car. It’s not a big deal.” It certainly wouldn’t be the first time.

“No.” Frank folded his arms over his chest. “You are not sleeping in your car. Stay with me.”

The room was small, with those dingy lights that make everything look a little dirty. The sheets looked clean enough, and the bathroom wasn’t in bad shape. It would do for the night.

“Mind if I take a shower?” Karen said, breaking the silence that had fallen heavily over them as soon as the door closed. 

“Go ahead.” Frank toed off his boots and sank back onto the bed to turn on the TV. She saw his eyes slide over to her as she closed the bathroom door, but that didn’t have to mean anything. He was aware of her. He was always aware of her. It was his training. It was who he was.

The water was tepid, the water pressure weak, but Karen felt a little cleaner afterwards. Her head felt clearer, anyway. She dried off with the scratchy towels provided to them and braided her wet hair. She didn’t have anything to sleep in, so she pulled her skirt and shirt back on. She’d slept in worse.

“I’ll take the floor,” Frank said, as soon as she reemerged, like he had been thinking about it while she was showering and didn’t want to give her a chance to offer first. She had been thinking about it too.

“You will do no such thing. I’m the one invading your space. I’ll take the floor.”

From the look on Frank’s face, you might have thought she had suggested killing a kitten. “No.”

Karen folded her arms. “Then, what do you propose we do, Frank?”

“I really don’t mind the floor.” Stubborn as ever. Some things never changed.

She sighed. “The bed is plenty big for both of us.”

“Fine.” He glanced at her outfit. “You comfortable sleeping in that?”

“You have a better idea?” He padded over to his bag and pulled out a t-shirt and sweats. He tossed them to her, and she stared at him. “Thanks.”   
“I’ll, uh, let you change.” He shuffled into the bathroom and Karen pulled on the clothes. They hung off her small frame, but they smelled like Frank. There was something comforting about that.

Karen was under the covers by the time Frank came back. He switched off the light and lay on top of the comforter, hands folded on his stomach. Karen got the feeling he was trying to stay as still as he could, but he kept shifting his body weight. Every time her eyes started to fall closed, he moved the mattress just enough to keep her awake.

After an hour of trying and failing to fall asleep, Karen had had enough. “Would you please get comfortable and go the fuck to sleep already?”

Frank froze. “Sorry. Just, uh, not used to sharing a bed, I guess.”

She sighed. “Me neither.” 

The silence that fell between them now was heavy with something neither of them was ready to talk about. Frank turned on his side and stopped fidgeting long enough for them both to finally get some sleep.

* * *

 

When Karen woke in the morning, Frank’s arm was locked around her waist, his nose buried in her hair. He was mumbling something she couldn’t quite make out, breath hot on the back of her neck. She knew she should move. She knew she should wake him. She just couldn’t bring herself to do it. She was warm and comfortable and  _ safe _ , for the first time in a long time. She didn’t want to break the spell.

She tried to turn without waking Frank. She wanted to see what he looked like, totally relaxed, but his eyes were open, by the time she turned over..

“Morning,” she whispered. The sun was already peeking through the crack in the curtains. 

“Morning.” Frank’s voice was deeper, rough with sleep. He still hadn’t moved his arm. “I haven’t slept that well in years,” he mumbled, color rising in his cheeks.

“Me neither.” Karen couldn’t look at him. It was too intense, too much for either of them. They had spent so much time on a tightrope of caring without touching, feeling without speaking, and now it felt like all the walls they had so carefully constructed were crumbling at this slight touch. 

“Guess we should get up.” He still didn’t move.

“Yeah. Guess we should.” She didn’t move either. Her eyes flicked back up to meet his. He was watching her with that intensity he had sometimes that made her feel like he could see through every layer of her, to who she really was. He had always known who she was, had always known she was more like him than anyone else could admit. There was a reason they kept circling back to each other. It was now or never.

Karen bit her lip. She had thought about this before. She had wondered what would have happened if she had closed the gap between them in that elevator. In that hospital room. She never thought she’d have the chance to find out. If she didn’t go for it now, she might never know. He might never let her this close again.

She leaned in and pressed a kiss to his lips. His arm tightened around her instantly, pulling her closer to him as his mouth opened to hers, their tongues sliding together, hot and wet and needy. She could feel his body, hard against hers, his hands tracing her curves like he was trying to memorize them. She wondered if he was as afraid as she was that they might never be here again.

“Karen,” he breathed, fingers clutching at her waist, grasping at her shirt. “Karen.”

“Frank.” Karen pushed her fingertips through his hair. It was getting long again, curling at the base of his neck. It was soft and thick against her hands an dhe leaned into the touch.

“We don’t have to rush this,” he said, breathing shakily. 

Karen nodded. “No. We don’t.” She kissed him again, soft and sweet. They could get here again. Now that they had destroyed all the walls between them with this first kiss, they didn’t have to be so afraid. They could trust this, trust each other, like they hadn’t before. 

“I missed you,” he mumbled, mouthing at her neck.

“I missed you too.” She squeezed him to her chest. “Don’t leave me again. Don’t push me away.” It was the only thing she was still afraid of, the only thing he could do to hurt her. She still had dreams about their last meeting. She couldn’t go back there now. Not after this.

Frank nodded seriously, lips brushing against her temple. “Never. I promise.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you, like me, love bed-sharing as a trope and want more Kastle bed-sharing fics, please check out my other fics using this trope, including, [the only heaven i'll be sent to is when i'm alone with you](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16075085) (a one-shot from Kastle Smut Week 2k18) and [who you are is not what you've been](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16215419) (a multi-chapter road trip fic that is low-key my favorite fic I've ever written).
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3


	19. neon

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt from myself:  
> Neon light at 1:30am
> 
> **Rated G**

Karen didn’t know when it had started, when she had started writing letters to a man she was never going to see again.

The insomnia wasn’t new. She had chased sleep for years, now. Her demons always came calling at night, and nothing helped. Nothing except writing to Frank.

It was half-past one, and she hadn’t bothered to turn on the lights. The glow of neon from the motel across the street illuminated the paper well enough. 

She never wrote his name. She had seen too much to be that reckless. But the letters were to him, all the same. 

Karen told him about her cases, the stories she was researching for Ellison on the side, Matt and Foggy. She told him about her past. She told him about her fears. She asked him how he was, what he was up to, if he had found his after. She hoped he had, even if she hadn’t.

She never sent them. She wouldn’t have known where to send them to. He had disappeared, without a trace, and she knew he wanted it to stay that way. She had to respect that, even if it hurt, to wonder why he was so adamant she stay out of his life.

She signed each one, like he wouldn’t know who they were from if he ever read them. Her voice echoed through each page, each word. She missed him so badly it ached, and the only thing that soothed that emptiness was pouring out all her thoughts onto these pages. She could be honest with Frank, like she could with no one else. He knew her. He always had. She could be herself, with no judgement. That was what she needed.

Karen slipped the paper into her desk, along with the others. The drawer was getting full, filled with all her thoughts and feelings from the last months. Everything she wished she could share with Frank, in one convenient location. The papers shifted, whispering against each other with every secret they contained.

She locked the drawer and went to bed. She stared up at the ceiling and wondered where Frank was, how he was. She hoped he was safe. She hoped he had found something to give him purpose, beyond his war. Maybe that teenager he was helping the last time she saw him had given him something new to live for.

She might never know, but she would keep writing. It was all she could do to hold onto that connection between them. She couldn’t let go of that, not for anything.

* * *

 

Shouting and scuffling outside woke Frank from a dead sleep. He sat bolt upright, hand closing around the gun closest to him. A glance at the clock told him it was 1:30 in the morning.

He crept to the window and peeked through the crack in the curtains. It was dark, except for the neon lights of the bar across the way, flashing red and yellow against the few cars still left in the parking lot. Two men were shoving each other, but a bartender came out pretty quickly to break it up. Frank’s shoulders relaxed and he rubbed a hand over his face. He hadn’t had a solid sleep in days, and he knew he should get more rest, now that he was safely in the middle of some town in the Midwest, but he was wide awake now, adrenaline still ebbing out of his body.

He thought about turning on the TV, but the noise and light gave him a headache after a while. He grabbed a book and tried to read, but he couldn’t focus on the words. Sighing, he pulled the pad of paper on the bedside table towards him and started to write.

He never wrote her name. Didn’t need to give the assholes trying to take him down any ammunition on people he cared about. Especially not her. 

He wrote about the scumbags he was chasing, the leads he had found. He could almost picture her eyes, lighting up with the thrill of a new case. People said he was unrelenting, but they hadn’t met Karen. He had never met anyone who could focus so completely on what they were doing. Until her.

He told her about his family. She had always helped him remember. He wanted to share what he remembered with her. He knew she’d appreciate it, more than most. More than anyone.

He asked her about her life, if she still worked with those lawyers, what her next story was going to be about, if she was seeing anyone. He hoped she was. He wanted her to be happy. He wanted her to find what she needed. He still saw her name in the paper every so often, but less than before. He wondered at that, wished he could ask her.

He could have sent the letters. He wrote one in nearly every city he stayed in. It was the only thing that helped him sleep, sometimes, the only thing that could keep the ghosts at bay. Telling her about his days, his hopes, his need to wreak vengeance on the world for all the injustice it had done to them both, almost felt like peace. Whatever peace looked like for him now.

He never sent them. He just shoved them deep into his bag, wondering what she would think of him, if she ever read them. She’d be curious, he knew, it was just who she was, but he wondered if she’d thought of him at all, since that last day in the hospital.

He told himself he hoped she hadn’t, but deep down, in the very bottom of his heart, he hoped she did. He hoped she knew he thought about her, and wanted the best for her. That’s why he had left. That’s why he had disappeared.

But the letters helped him remember her and them and all their shit, and he was never going to forget. He couldn’t if he tried. He didn’t want to. If he ever found his way back to her, he’d tell her all this in person, but for now, the letters were enough.


	20. sunlight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not prompted, but a very fluffy drabble nonetheless. Enjoy!
> 
> **Rated T**

The light was streaming through the window, soft and low with the sunset. Karen could see the dust floating in the rays of the sun, and made a mental note to vacuum sometime in the near future. She couldn’t remember the last time she had done it, but it didn’t matter. Not right now.

Right now, all that mattered was the strong arm around her waist and the man it belonged to.

She didn’t know how they had fallen into this habit, but it seemed like every Sunday, they went to their favorite diner for breakfast, came home and read the paper, and fell asleep against each other on her worn, old couch. It was like clockwork.

She couldn’t say she minded. Frank was snoring softly, breath huffing against her neck, and she snuggled closer to him. He grunted and his grip on her waist tightened.

“We fall asleep again?” he mumbled, pressing a kiss to her jaw.

“Guess we did.” She smiled and turned to face him. She traced his jawline with her fingertips and his eyes fluttered closed as he nuzzled into the touch.

“You hungry?”

Karen shook her head. She tucked her head under Frank’s chin and wrapped her arms around him. The sun was warm, and Frank was warm, and she was safe and happy and sleepy. It was as good a time as any, for the conversation they had both been avoiding.

“Can I ask you something?”

Frank’s eyes shot open, and she saw a flicker of fear there. After everything they had been through, it was this that brought the fear to the surface. It was too late to take it back. She had to go through with it. It was time. They had to talk about it.

“Sure.”

“Well, I was just thinking, since your place is all the way across town, and since you spend most of your time here anyway, maybe…” She trailed off. She couldn’t actually say it. She could already feel the blush rising in her cheeks.

“Maybe?” Frank nudged her with his nose, kissing her forehead. “Maybe what?”

“ _Maybeyoucouldmoveinhere_.” The words came out in a rush, and Karen felt her heart racing and the flush deepening down to her bones.

“What?” She could hear the laughter in his voice and her fight-or-flight reflex triggered. She tried to get up, get away, get some space for herself to think about what she had done and how to fix it, but Frank wasn’t letting go.

“Never mind.”

“No. Karen, look at me.”

She opened her eyes, and he was watching her, expression soft.

“Frank.” 

“Can you say it again? Slower this time?” His brown eyes were swallowing her up, drawing her in, like they always did. Her heart stuttered in her chest, and she felt a flicker of hope.

“What?”

“Ask me again.” His voice was low and rough, sending shivers over her spine.

Karen swallowed and tried to slow her breathing. “Do you want to move in here? With me?”

Frank’s smile was wider than she’d ever seen. He kissed her, hard, teeth grazing her lower lip.

He rested his forehead against hers, strong and steady. “Thought you’d never ask.”


End file.
